Wellington Cross (Wellington Cross Series) Read Online Free PDF

I’d
heard in my brief memory, and so I still had hope that that man would find
me.  I just kept telling Jefferson that I wanted my memory back
first.  He bought me a beautiful deep blue dress that was as soft as
velvet for a Christmas gift.  I scolded him, saying it looked too
expensive during these hard times, and where would I wear such a thing
anyway?  He assured me he’d find a reason for me to wear it, if only on my
wedding day. 
    He did take me to a dance on New Year’s Eve at a farm house up
in Bellwood.  A prominent family there still had enough money to gather
friends together and have a little music and food, nothing fancy at all, mostly
just to socialize and ring in the year of 1867.  I wore the dress
Jefferson gave me, and we danced quite a bit. 
    “I told you I’d find an occasion for you to wear this dress,” he
said while we were dancing an English country dance.
    “Yes, and you were true to your word.  This is quite
enjoyable,” I said.  It was enjoyable.  I felt like I could actually
have a little amusement for a change.  I’d been so busy worrying about who
I was, about finding someone I knew, and about whether or not to marry
Jefferson, that I had not been very happy.
    That’s when I saw an attractive blonde lady who was staring at
me.  After the dance ended, I turned and saw that she was still watching
me while trying to be pleasant to her dance partner.  She looked familiar,
but I couldn’t remember who she was.  Jefferson followed my eyes, and when
he saw the other lady looking at me, he quickly offered to get some libations. 
I reluctantly agreed, and he led me in the opposite direction.  He
wouldn’t let me anywhere near the blonde lady for the rest of the night, right
up until midnight.
    When the longcase clock struck midnight in the foyer of the old
house, Jefferson asked my permission to give me a traditional New Year’s Eve
kiss.  I agreed, thinking he’d simply give me a quick peck on the
cheek.  I was wrong.  He kissed me straight on the lips, and pulled
me close to his body.  I opened my eyes, wishing to stop him, and he
reluctantly opened his own eyes and ended the kiss.  He grinned at me, but
I felt like slapping him.  I looked around, embarrassed at his public
display of affection, hoping no one saw, and was relieved to see that other
couples were doing similar acts of affection around us.  Nevertheless, I
ordered him to take me home at once.  On the way out the door, I saw the
blonde lady again, who watched me curiously, but I was too upset to try and
talk to her.
     
    I had another dream soon after New Year’s of me and the two boys. 
The weather was warm instead of cold, and the blonde boy and I got into a small
rowboat and paddled down the river till we reached a big dock on a large piece
of flat land that stretched up a hill into the trees.  The dark-haired boy
was on the dock waiting for us.  The blonde boy tied up our rowboat, and
we climbed up onto the dock.  We ran around a small pond filled with
geese, who responded to our intrusion by honking noisily.  We played
hide-and-seek among the trees and gardens of the huge piece of land.  It
was really a marvelous place to hide and play, with big bushes, tall trees, and
beautiful flowers among formal walkways.  I caught up with the dark-headed
boy with the amber eyes just before waking up.  The last thing I
remembered was grabbing his arm and yelling in a child-like voice, “I got you,
Wellsy!  You’re it!”
    I immediately wrote down the dream and underlined the name,
Wellsy.  Who was Wellsy?  What kind of name was that?  A
nickname perhaps?  I wondered about where the land was and about getting
in the rowboat.  It seemed that I had lived with the blonde boy – perhaps
he was my brother or a cousin – and we went down the river to where the
dark-haired boy lived.  We were all very close friends.  And we’d
been terribly happy.  Where were they now, my dear friends?  Were
they